


In which Sophie tries to take a day off

by seawench



Category: Howl Series - Diana Wynne Jones
Genre: Gen, Misses Clause Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-23
Updated: 2011-12-23
Packaged: 2017-10-27 21:25:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/300191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seawench/pseuds/seawench
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vacation rarely goes as planned for Ingary's most reluctant sorceress.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In which Sophie tries to take a day off

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hannelore](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannelore/gifts).



> Thank you to MarsDragon for an excellent last-minute beta!

  
“Are you sure you don’t mind delaying our vacation for a few days?” Howl asked for the seventeenth time on his way out the door.   


“Yes, you blundering fool.  I’m more than happy to putter about on my own for a bit.  Calcifer and I have a few projects which we may finally finish with Morgan out of the house.  Not that I don’t love him to pieces, but he does have a dreadful habit of getting underfoot.”

“Probably after-effects from his time as a cat.” 

“Or bad influence from other precocious toddlers,” Sophie said with a pointed look at Howl.  “Now, off with you.  The King is waiting.”

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Howl insisted as Sophie shut the door firmly behind him.  She quickly turned the knob so he couldn’t get back in if he tried.  

“Liar,” said a voice from the hearth.

“He does have an awful tendency to get distracted, but he means well,” said Sophie.

“Howl can mean whatever he wants.  It’s never stopped him from getting into trouble before,” said Calcifer.

Sophie sighed in reluctant agreement and plopped down in her favorite armchair by the fire.  She put her feet up and smiled.  “Now, onto our very important projects.”

Two books floated down from Michael’s old bedroom, which Sophie had turned into her office and workroom.  One arranged itself propped open at a safe distance from the hearth and the other gently lowered itself into Sophie’s lap.  Mrs. Fairfax had lent them to her nearly three months earlier, but she still hadn’t managed to finish either one.

“Very important projects indeed,” said Calcifer.

***

Sophie was deeply immersed in _The Extraordinary Adventures of Delphinium the Magnificent_ when frantic knocking jolted her out of her reverie.

“Aunt Sophie!  Aunt Sophie!,” a young voice wailed from outside.  “Please, I need your help.”

“Market Chipping, of course,” said Calcifer who looked down, chagrined at the page he’d singed.

Sophie sighed and pried herself out of the chair. She turned the knob yellow down and opened the door.

Michael and Martha’s third oldest child stood outside clutching an enormous orange toad. 

“He’s a toad,” the girl cried. “I don’t know how, but he’s a toad!”

“I can see that, Cynthia.” Sophie said. “Why don’t you come in?  Does your mother know you’re here?”

“No!  And you can’t tell her.” Cythina said.

“Why not?”

“I can’t ever go home.  He’s a toad!”  

Sophie avoided rolling her eyes, but only just.

“Who’s a toad?” asked Calcifier, floating toward the visitor.

“CROAK,” said the toad.

“James,” replied Cynthia, tearfully.  “We were just playing and I thought it would be fun to play magicians so I grabbed Papa’s walking stick and swung it around saying stuff but it was only nonsense words, and then, and then...” 

“Toad.” said Calcifer, who inspected the tangerine amphibian with more interest.

Cythina burst into hysterical sobs and threw herself on her aunt’s freshly cleaned skirt.

“Oh, dear,” said Sophie. “Well, we’ll have to see what we can do about that.”  She carefully freed a disgruntled and even more violently orange James from the tangle of clothing and niece and patted the girl on the head.  “Cheer up, now.  We’ll have you both home in time for supper.”

“More light please, Calcifer.” The room brightened as Sophie placed James on the workbench.  “Now, how should we go about this?”

Calcifer circled the nervous looking toad.  “You do come up with the most interesting puzzles, Sophie dear.”

“Normally I’d talk him through turning back on his own, but he’s too young to understand.”

“It’s a good thing he didn’t end up a tadpole.  He’d probably have gotten squashed.”

This caused another eruption of hysterical sobbing from Cynthia.

“That is not helpful, Calcifer,” Sophie said. “I need to fix James, not make Cynthia worse.”

The fire demon retreated from the workbench, green flame-hair paling just a touch from the scolding. 

“CROAK,” said James

Sophie looked at the toad, who shot his tongue into the workroom air searching, presumably, for a fly.

“I think he’s hungry,” said Calcifer, almost meekly, from the hearth.

“Clearly,” said Sophie in a beleaguered tone.  She knew quite well how to manage human babies and how to manage toads.  She did however lack experience human children that had accidentally been turned into toads. “Just how long has James been orange, Cynthia?”

The girl looked up from where she had collapsed in the corner and seemed ready to start a new round of frantic tears before Sophie cut her off.

“I believe we’ve had all the hysterics we can handle today.  I know this is a tangle, but we’ll get it sorted out.  If you’d like to help, you can start some tea.” It was said gently but firmly and Cynthia responded by slowly picking herself up off the floor and moving to grab the kettle.  
  
“Calcifer, if you wouldn’t mind.”  Sophie gestured Cynthia towards the hearth.

“It’s so demeaning,” he complained.  “To be used for something as common as tea is really more than I can bear.”

“You could always find another house,” Sophie suggested.  “Somewhere quiet where you could live a life of eternal leisure.”

“The boredom would extinguish me in less than a day.”  Calcifer paused, then went on, “If I didn’t burn the place down.

“So, death by boredom or tea.  Your choice.  And besides, you don’t even have to bend down like you used to.”

“What a cruel and terrible taskmistress your Aunt Sophie is. Come on then, Cynthia.”  

Cynthia had met the fire demon before but had never worked directly with him.  Despite her nervousness, and her brother’s persistent amphibious state, she balked only a little as Calcifer talked her through building the logs up and setting the grate on the hooks Sophie had installed above his favorite resting spot.

The familiar argument had allowed Sophie’s mind to wander in contemplation of their problem.  She paused to glance speculatively at the forlorn toad while she readied the various tea paraphernalia.  When cups, saucers, tea, and honey had all been assembled, she stepped back.  James’ tongue was shooting out at more frequent intervals, but as Sophie kept a clean house there were no flies for him to catch.  

“I wonder if it’s even safe to feed him flies right now,” she wondered aloud.  

“CROOOAK?” asked James, a plaintive note in his toady voice. 

“You can’t feed my brother flies,” Cynthia protested.  “Mama’s only just let him have hard food.”

“Well frog lips aren’t going to work with a baby bottle,” Calcifer pointed out.

“Calcifer, you brilliant, marvelous creature!” said Sophie as she smiled and handed the toad, orange now approaching neon levels, back to Cynthia.  “I’ll be right back.”

“It’s nice that someone finally appreciates me.” Calcifer called after hear as she swept up the stairs.

Calcifer and Cynthia waited while Sophie made various searching noises. After a loud “HA!” and an even louder crash, she emerged triumphant with a baby bottle in hand.

“I thought we still had one lying around,” said Sophie.

“Yes, but have you washed it since the goat left?”

“I’m not sure.  Disguised prince or no, I doubt his drool is healthy for James.”

Sophie quickly scrubbed the bottle, filled it halfway with the milk from the tea service, and set it to warm inside the kettle. She reclaimed her amphibious nephew from Cynthia and swaddled him loosely in a dish towel.  When the milk was warm enough, she offered the bottle to the toad, which had faded in her arms from violent orange to bright peach.

“Here you go,” she said.  “I know you’re upset.  This will make you feel better.”  Sophie used the same firm, but gentle tone she had always used with Morgan.

The toad tried to suck milk from the bottle with little success.  Its lips and tongue were no use with the tiny nipple on the bottle.  It struggled to shape it’s mouth into a more human ‘O’ but failed at each attempt.

“I told you a bottle wouldn’t work,” Calcifer pointed out, “and then you called me brilliant.”

“A bottle won’t work for a toad, but if he wants it badly enough...” Sophie trailed off as the toad’s color softened and acquired a touch off rosiness around its face and front legs.

“There you go, James.  You know how this is supposed to work.  I know you can figure it out if you try,” Sophie said in gentle, encouraging tones.  “A little push please, Calcifer?”

Calcifer brightened on the hearth, and a warm glow filled the room.  

Sophie smiled as the toad’s mouth shifted and his lips shrank inward to fit the bottle.  With one last croak, James lengthened to his normal shape and his pink, human hands came up to grip the bottle.  

“There, now isn’t that better?” Sophie asked.  She rocked the baby gently as he drank the milk.

“Oh, I don’t know.  Toads lead pretty happy lives.”

“Calcifer, really.”

Cynthia crept up to check that the bundle in Sophie’s arms was James-shaped once more.  “Oh thank you, Aunt Sophie!  I was so worried,” she whispered.

“He’ll be fine now,” Sophie assured her niece.  “Just leave your father’s walking stick alone from now on.”  

“I will, I promise!”  Cynthia gathered up her brother and the bottle and shuffled hurriedly out the door.

“That one is going to be trouble soon.  I bet she’s even more a pain than you were.”  Calcifer shot Sophie a fiery grin. “Your tea is ready, oh magnificent mistress.”

Sophie sighed and closed the door.  It was high time to talk to Martha and Michael about Cynthia starting lessons.  But that could wait until after her vacation.

“Thank you, Calcifer.  Now where were we?” she asked as she settled back into her chair.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” the fire demon warned as another knock broke the new-found quiet.  

“Sophie,” Fanny called from the door of the country mansion, “I could really use your help.”

  



End file.
